An Angel of Grace
by Cinder's Broken Wings
Summary: God, this is Ricky Underwood. I know that You probably hear this a lot, but, I need You... I need someone who can help me. Please, just give me a miracle, an angel, a saving grace. That's all I need..." Ricky's whisper died as his tears fell swiftly.
1. Dear Journal, Dear Diary

**Summary:** "God, this is Ricky Underwood. I know that You probably hear this a lot, but, I need You... I need someone who can help me. Please, just give me a miracle, an angel, a saving grace. That's all I need..." Ricky's whisper died as his tears fell swiftly out of his eyes.

**This is a Ricky x Grace story that takes place when they're a lot younger, probably about the beginning of 6th grade. It's hugely AU and there's only minor mentions of other characters. Ricky has a secret, and when Grace finds out all she wants to do is help him. This is the relationship of Ricky and Grace as it grows from a simple, saving friendship, to a lasting love forever.**

Introduction  
_Dear Journal, Dear Diary_

_Dear Journal,_

_I hate this. I hate my school, my new teachers, the kids, my life, everything. I especially hate my father, if that's something I can call him. I honestly don't think that father is the right word for him, but I have no clue what else to call him. I was reading through my older journal entries, trying to find one good day to live on, one good memory to keep in my mind forever. I found nothing, surprise, surprise. Every entry is after another of my father's "lessons," so what good is there to say? It's all the same, and I have no one to help me. People pray to God when they need help, and they say He's always there. I've tried it, and so far He hasn't been so helpful for me. I wonder if He cares. I mean, there's so many kids out there, why would anyone care about me? If my parents don't care, who else is there?_

_Today marked the end of the first week of 6th grade. Let me tell you, it's no picnic. Now I have six teachers, a locker number and combination to remember, and tons more homework. Not that I'm going to do any of that homework. What's the point? I'll probably just fail, and bringing home a bad grade to my father is like... well, he just isn't happy about it. At all. He expects me, no, demands, me to get straight A's. He says that if one day that happens, it'll be something that could change the lessons. I've tried so hard before to get straight A's, but it's so hard. I need help, but my parents are no help with homework or studying._ _I guess I'll just have to figure this out on my own. That's how it's always been, right?_

_Oh, we got a new student today. She's in ALL of my classes, and I mean ALL of them. No other kid is in that many of them. I dont really know about her, I guess she seems like she could be nice. Her name was something, well, kind of religious in my opinion. It reminds me of everything I don't have. What was it? Hope... Angel... Grace. Grace, that was it. I guess she's pretty, but she's just too sweet I think. I mean, she's always saying "please" and "thank you" and being all polite. It's clear that she's lived a perfect, cusioned life. I don't like her._

_That's all I have to say. Bye, for now I guess. I'll talk to you again tomorrow around 6:00, right after yet another lesson._

_-Ricky_

Ricky slammed the composition notebook shut. On the cover, written in blue crayon, was the word JOURNAL in very sloppy, childish handwriting. He'd gotten the journal when he was in second grade. Originally it had been an assignment from his teacher, basically he had to write about school and assigments. Yet after that project was over, Ricky had wanted to keep writing. He kept the journal and started to write about life, and it wasn't long before the entries became dark. In fifth grade he'd had to add sheets of paper to the back of the notebook so he could keep writing, and now it was a huge, sloppy mess.

The young boy sighed sadly. It was already dark outside; stars were dotting the black night sky. His brown eyes stared outside wistfully. Oh, how he wanted to run away, to get away from this nightmare. Yet where could he go? Nowhere, that was it. He had no friends, no relatives who could help him. He was alone in this nightmare.

For the first time in a very long time, Ricky had the urge to pray. He kneeled beside his bed, just as he had all those years ago, folded his hands and closed his eyes. His voice came out in a whisper, just to be certain that his dad would not wake up.

"God, this is Ricky Underwood. I know that You probably hear this a lot, but, I need You... I need someone who can help me. Please, just give me a miracle, an angel, a saving grace. That's all I need..." Ricky's whisper died as his tears fell swiftly out of his eyes.

-0-0-0-

_Dear Diary,_

_Wow, today was amazing! Middle school is great. I mean, sure, other kids have gotten a head start since I just moved here, but I still think it's great. Most of my teachers were nice to me, except for Mr. Johnson, our math teacher. He's not mean, I guess he's just strict. My other teachers are really nice, though. The kids are great, too. They were all so welcoming to me, they even all said hello at the same time! It was great, and I was laughing the whole time. There's this one boy who didn't seem very happy at all, though. _

_His name is Ricky, I believe. He's in all of my classes, even my electives. It's pretty cool. I bet we'll become really close friends after awhile. He didn't seem very social. He sat in the far corner and kept his head buried in this book. I don't see why he'd be so sad. Middle School is great, I feel like I have so much more freedom! Well, I don't have much more to say. I'll be writing again tomorrow! Goodbye for now. _

_~ Grace_

Grace Bowman flipped her pink, soft-covered journal closed and placed it back in her drawer. She smiled softly to herself, turning off her desk lamp as she looked at her digital clock. The numbers read 9:00, causing the young girl's eyes to widen. How could it be that late already? Her father and mother would be upstairs any moment to tuck her into bed. Quickly Grace jumped off her chair to kneel beside her bed, preparing to say her prayers.

Her thoughts strayed to that boy again, Ricky. Grace frowned at the thought of him. She wanted to know why he was so sad all the time. He seemed like he could be a nice guy, maybe he could become a good friend of hers. Grace sighed and looked down, gazing at her bed sheets and thinking about that little boy buried in his book.

_Tomorrow, I'm gonna talk to him, _Grace decided. _I don't know what it is. There's just something about him... _

Shaking the thoughts from her mind, Grace bowed her head, ready now to say her prayers.

**How was it? I don't like how I wrote Grace's chapter, mainly because I got so into Ricky's depressed mood that it was hard for me to write again in a cheerful, happy mood. Anyways, please review with feedback!**


	2. A Friend?

**Thanks for the reviews everyone! This is my first Secret Life story, even though the show is basically my obsession. Haha. Anyways, from now on each chapter is either going to be in Ricky's or Grace's point of view, it's not going to be both anymore. This chapter will be in Ricky's POV. **

A... Friend?  
_Ricky_

Ricky shoved all of his notebooks into his tattered, ragged backpack. He was in a rush, not only because he was going to miss the bus, but because if he wasn't gone before his father woke up... The boy shook the thoughts from his mind. He needed to clear his head of all those thoughts if he wanted any hope of being able to concentrate at school. Ricky's jaw clenched as he shifted the pencil pouch in his backpack to make room for his old composition book. The ticking of the clock was like a timer to game over, and each tick-tock made him sweat harder and move faster.

It felt like an eternity before everything had been shoved together in the backpack. The clock read 7:28. Ricky cursed under his breath, flinging the bag over his back and racing out the front door, not bothering to lock it. There was nothing in there that anyone would want to steal, other then his parents' drugs that they stashed somewhere. Besides, the bus would be at the bus stop at exactly 7:30. Never was the bus driver a minute late. Ricky sighed and broke into a sprint down the sidewalk, ignoring anyone who waved. At one point he had to dodge out of the way of an old woman walking her dog. He heard her startled cry but did not look back.

As soon as he reached the bus stop, Ricky knew that he had missed it. No one was there, yet the smell of exhaust still lingered in the air. Ricky groaned, hurling his backpack at a nearby fence.

"Damnit!"

Now he had no ride to school. No way would he ask his father to drive him, and walking would take him over twenty minutes. He'd be late. As Ricky walked back to pick up his backpack that thankfully nothing was spilled out of, he decided that he'd try and walk. Sure, it'd take a long time, but it was better to be late then not be there at all. If he didn't show up, the school would call his dad. And Ricky would be in for one Hellish night if that happened.

With his backpack hanging off his shoulder, Ricky started down the sidewalk again. The only sound he heard was that of his own shuffling footsteps. He kept his eyes on the ground in front of him, not bothering to look up at any of the people passing. Right now, believe it or not, he just wanted to get to school. Ricky actually did like school, in a way. After all, his father wasn't there, and neither was his high mother. It was his own personal escape, even if it was school.

He wasn't paying attention to the van behind him until it came to a stop right beside him. Ricky looked up, his throat closing up with a sudden amount of fear. The fear vanished immediately, however, when the window rolled down to reveal the smiling face of none other then Grace Bowman. That fear was replaced by a sudden annoyance, and Ricky was just about to turn and walk away. Something about Grace's smiling face made him stay, though. Maybe it was the fact that he hadn't seen a sincere smile like hers in who knows how long?

"Hi, Ricky!" Her voice was exactly as Ricky expected, high-pitched, over-friendly, and full of sweetness. Ricky waved awkwardly, shuffling his feet as he was suddenly overcome by shyness.

"Um, hey. Grace, right?" he replied with a clearly fake grin that almost looked like a sneer. The man beside Grace in the driver's seat looked over at Ricky. It had to have been Grace's father, for the two of them looked very much alike. The same shade of blonde hair rested on the man's head, and similar blue eyes gazed kindly back at him.

"Did you miss the bus?" Grace asked. Ricky nodded absently, looking toward the direction of the school. Now he'd be even later then he already was going to be.

Ricky turned away to start walking. "Yeah, but I really need to go. I'm already gonna be late and-"

"How about we give you a ride?"

Grace's kindness made Ricky double-back in his mind. Was she seriously offering him a ride? He didn't even know them. For all he knew, Grace's father was a kidnapper and Grace was just like his bait. Grace's hopeful eyes stared straight into Ricky's own, and he immediately felt guilty for his thoughts. Grace was clearly just trying to be friendly, no matter how annoying she was acting. Besides, if he got a ride with her he wouldn't get to school late. Ricky nodded, muttering a quick thanks as he slide the door to the white minivan open and jumped into the back.

The car was perfect. It was completely spotless, the leather seats not holding a single smudge or smear. Nothing littered the ground, not stray candy wrappers or leftover french fries from McDonald's. Basically, it was the exact opposite of Ricky's dad's car. The smell of new car tickled at his nose while the sound of some Christian band on the radio filtered into his ears.

Grace looked back at him from her seat in the front. She smiled at him again. Ricky shot her a half-smile in return, feeling a bit awkward around her. He wasn't used to people being so friendly. It was annoying. It was nice. It was all so confusing. The car ride was filled with the conversation between Grace and her father. Grace tried to fit Ricky in multiple times, but he only replied with one-word answers. This was all so foreign to him that he didn't really know what to say. Really, he just tried to take it all in. He wanted to remember this, to remember a normal family.

Grace's dad pulled into the parking lot and let Ricky and Grace out. The busses were just getting into the school, meaning that the two of them were not late.

"Thanks, dad!" Grace called to him. Ricky nodded.

"Yeah, uh, thank you."

Mr. Bowman just smiled, waved, and drove away. Ricky watched the minivan go until it disappeared. He was suddenly aware of Grace beside him again, nudging his arm softly. Ricky jumped back, surprised at the touch. Grace's eyes grew wide as he jumped away, looking as if he'd startled her as much as she had him.

"Sorry," Grace said with a nervous laugh. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"You didn't," Ricky replied roughly. He shrugged his backpack further up on his shoulder. "C'mon, let's go so we're not late."

The two of them walked into the school, an awkward silence hovering over them like a fog. They only split apart when they went to their lockers, but by the time they were both done getting their books they were entering the same classroom at the exact same time.

-0-0-0-

Ricky slammed his locker shut as the bell rang. They had taken their first test of the year that day, and he was sure he flunked it. His father would not be happy. Ricky sighed with fury, slinging the backpack over his shoulders and joining the sea of students as they walked toward the bus. Conversations buzzed around him, most of them involving the Sixth Grade Dance that was taking place in about a week. According to teachers, it was a chance to "make new friends and get to know each other." To Ricky, it was all just an excuse for him to not come home while his dad was asleep. Yes, he'd be attending the dance, but it wouldn't be for the same reasons as everyone else.

"Ricky!"

Ricky held back an annoyed groan as he turned around. Grace was weaving her way through a crowd of kids, waving frantically to catch his attention. All day he'd had Grace trailing behind him like a lost puppy, and it was starting to get really, really aggravating. Sure, it was sweet at first to have her being so nice to him. Now he wasn't so sure he enjoyed the fact. People were beginning to whisper about it. Ricky didn't normally care what other people thought, but the things they were saying... Ricky shook his head in disgust.

Grace had caught up to him in a matter of moments. She stopped, letting out a deep breath thanks to her exhaustion. As soon as that breath let out, she shot him another sugar-coated smile. Ricky didn't even try to smile back this time; all day he'd been smiling back, and now his cheeks were starting to hurt.

"Hey, glad I caught you," Grace said, sounding breathless. "I was just wondering if, maybe, you'd wanna come over for dinner tomorrow night? My mom is cooking steak and pasta, and my brother won't be there it turns out so we'll have extra, and-"

Ricky held up his hand before Grace would run out of breath again. "Thanks, Grace, but I don't think so. I-" Ricky stopped, suddenly getting an idea. If he stayed late at Grace's house tomorrow night... he could come home late. His father would most likely be passed out on the couch by eight o'clock. If Ricky ate slowly, chatted with Grace and her parents for a little bit, and maybe watched a half hour reality show with them, he'd get home some time after eight. Ricky smiled. He felt a little guilty about using Grace that way, but this was what he needed. He needed a break.

Ricky nodded. "Actually, I might be able to. I'll ask my dad and I'll let you know tomorrow, ok?"

Grace grinned brightly, letting out a giggle. Ricky couldn't help but smile at the sight of her so eager. _She really wants to hang out with me... I don't know why, but she does._

"That's great!" Grace said happily. "Oh, it'll be so much fun, I promise." Grace flashed him a smile so sincere that Ricky's guilt completely washed over him. He immediately started to hate himself even more. He couldn't believe he would take advantage of a perfectly nice girl like he was. Ricky sighed, feeling a wave of sadness come over him. Grace noticed this and frowned, concern showing on her angelic features.

"Is everything okay?" she asked. Ricky nodded.

"Yeah, it's fine. Thanks for inviting me, Grace. I'll try and make it." Ricky turned away now, beginning to be swept away by the current of students rushing for their bus. Just as he turned around, he felt a hand grasp his shoulder. Grace was pulling him back. Ricky turned again, looking into her eyes as she stared up at him.

"You can talk to me." The words were simple, yet so honest and determined. Ricky held back the urge to glare down at her. No, he couldn't talk to her. If he told her what he'd gone through, she'd never talk to him again. Ricky wasn't sure why, but that could not happen.

"I know, thanks," Ricky said. "But I need to go, okay? Bye, I'll see you tomorrow."

He turned abruptly and walked off, feeling Grace's eyes on him as he walked. The guilt was consuming him, taking over him. He knew now that he needed Grace, yet he wasn't sure why. All of a sudden, he felt like her company was vital to him.

Ricky was starting to think of her as a friend.

**Eh, not my favorite chapter. If this story seems a little rushed to you, I'm sorry, but I thought it would make sense that Ricky would feel a bonding with Grace right away. Next chapter will be in Ricky's point of view again, but after that I might try and write as Grace. Read and review!**


	3. Convincing Him

**This chapter was a bit of a filler I guess. It's one of the shorter chapters I'll be writing. Basically, all this is will be Ricky asking his father about visiting Grace, with a few more things thrown into. Be warned, this chapter is very dark at the beginning. **

**Also, I changed my mind about the one POV per chapter. I might change that whenever I see fit. This might be my last update for awhile sadly. I've got some reports and stuff due. Read and review!**

Convincing Him  
_Ricky_

In order to be able to go to Grace's house, Ricky would of course have to ask his father. This was no something he was thrilled about. At all. Truth be told, he was terrified just to look his father in the eye these days. Yet he didn't have a choice. No way was he not going to ask, though. If he even attempted to run away or not tell his father where he'd be, well, he'd be in for one Hellish night. Ricky sighed, his head throbbing with fear as he awaited his father's return home. He closed his eyes tightly, hearing only the sound of the television downstairs. His mother was watching, or more like having another hangover in front of, the news. His father would be home any moment.

The sound of a slamming door was the first sound he heard, and that was followed by Bob Underwood cussing Ricky's mother out, demanding that she wake up and fix him some dinner. The drunken slurr to his speech was a bad sign. Ricky resisted the urge to run to his door and lock it, for he needed to talk to his father. Besides, he'd locked the door before. It never helped. His father always had a way in; one time he kicked the door right off its hinges. That was the angriest he had ever been, and Ricky had been too terrified to ask why.

_Be strong, _he told himself silently. _It'll all be worth it. You'll be safe tomorrow, you won't have anything at all to worry about. Just think about it, good food, no lesson..._

"Ricky!"

Ricky's eyes flew open again. His father's footsteps were like drums in his ears as the man raced up them. Ricky's heart was pounding with a sudden fear, and all of a sudden he had doubts. Would it be worth it? Would his father ever allow him to go? He was so drunk... Ricky could practically smell the beer wafting off of him through the door. The pounding on Ricky's door shook him out of his thoughts. He found himself backing up, pressing against the wall and too terrified to even move. The door slammed open, smashing against Ricky's bedroom wall with enough force to shake it for a split second.

The look in his father's eyes was almost enough to make Ricky change his mind. He'd had a bad day and had obviously gone to the bar after. It was obvious; Bob could barely stand up straight. It was a miracle that he'd even made it home. Immediately Ricky regretted that choice of words. No way was it a miracle. Ricky was beginning to wish that his father _hadn't _made it home, that he'd gotten into an accident that would...

His father grinned at him. "There's my boy. You didn't think that I forgot our lesson, did you?"

Ricky shook his head, angering the man before him even more.

"Answer me when I talk to you!"

The next thing Ricky felt was a slap on the cheek. Even with his father's drunken state, the force was enough to send Ricky flying to the side. His head smashed against his nightstand, and the sound of a "crack!" sounded in his ears. Dazed, Ricky looked up at his father with terrified, pleaing eyes.

"N-No sir, I didn't think you forgot." Bob smiled, reaching down to ruffle Ricky's hair. It was a sign usually used as affection between father and son. Yet there was no affection in Bob's eyes when he made this gesture. Ricky shook his head, backing away a little bit. Now was the only chance he'd have to ask his father. Ricky raised his eyes to meet the eyes of his father, trying to ignore the ache in his head and the shaking of his entire body.

"D-Dad, I... A friend invited me to her house for dinner tomorrow night," Ricky began. "I-I really want to go and hang out with her. We'll be studying and-"

Bob slapped Ricky again, silencing him. Ricky squeezed his eyes shut to hold back tears; tears only angered his father even more.

"If you go to this girl's house, you'll miss your lesson." His father grinned down at him. "I guess I'll just have to make this one a little extra informative."

Ricky didn't open his eyes. That was the closest thing he'd get to a yes, and it was enough. The pain wouldn't matter. Tomorrow, he'd be home-free, he'd be safe. That thought was the only thing that got him through the "lesson." That, and thoughts of Grace's smiling, friendly face.

-0-0-0-

Ricky wasn't able to sleep that night. He lay on his bed, staring dully at the ceiling. Cracks ran across it in crooked and twisted patterns. Ricky's brown eyes traced pathes within the cracks, following them like he would a maze. He sighed, looking over at the clock that rested upon his nightstand. It was already 9:30. The room remained filled with light, though, thanks to the ceiling lamp hanging above his head. The silence wasn't new to Ricky; his father was already in bed, and his mother... well, right now Ricky didn't care where his mother was.

_I just want this all to end, _Ricky thought to himself. _I want a reason to stay here, I want... Grace._

Ricky found himself longing for the pretty young girl's company that night. It surprised him, for he didn't know her very well at all. He just needed a reason to smile, a sincere look, a kind word. He needed Grace Bowman with him. Ricky wished they'd exchanged phone numbers or email or something. He wanted to talk to her more then anything at that moment. He needed to clear the horrible scene that had occured hours before out of his mind. He needed Grace, his breath of fresh air.

The young boy rolled over in his bed so he was looking out the window. The movement brought the pain in his head back, making him wince. It had been bleeding earlier; that was clear from the pile of bloody tissues on the floor beside his bed. Now, a scab of dried blood covered that cut on his head. It wasn't deep, and he'd been hurt way worse before. Never once had he been taken to the emergency room for any of the injuries, for according to his father they weren't bad enough to waste a doctor's time with.

Soft footsteps sounded from outside in the hallway. They paused at Ricky's door, making him tense with a sudden fear. Who was out there? It wasn't his father; the steps were far too soft and gentle. They were almost feminine, and that thought made Ricky relax. It was just his mother. He knew that she stopped outside his door every night. Apparently, it was her own way of checking on him. She'd never cared enough to go in there and ask him if he was okay. She was usually too high or had a huge hangover anyway. Ricky didn't want her company.

Ricky wasn't surprised when he heard his mother's retreating footsteps. He found himself clenching his fists with a sudden amount of anger. Didn't she care? Did it not matter that her son, the child she gave birth to all those years ago, went through Hell every night? About a year ago, Ricky had come to the conclusion that his mother was a coward. She didn't want to face his father, to confront him about his cruelty. She didn't want to become the object of his cruelty. In Ricky's opinion, she was a selfish coward.

_I hate them. _Ricky closed his eyes at his thoughts. _I want them both gone. I want to get away from here, far, far away. I want Grace._

Somewhere in his neighborhood, a dog barked frantically. Ricky could hear the sound of a car pulling into his neighbor's driveway. It was Mr. Frazier, returning from a week long buisness trip. His neighbors' door opened, and following that was the sound of two little children squealing with joy. Their father was home. Ricky, driven by curiousity, sat up in his bed to get a better look. Mr. Frazier had kneeled down to his twin five-year-olds' heights, opening his arms wide for a hug. Both children, one a boy and one a girl, leapt into his arms with a giggling fit. Ricky could hear Mrs. Frazier laughing, yelling a happy welcome to her husband.

Was that a normal family? Surely Mr. Frazier didn't teach his son the same type of lessons Ricky was taught. He probably drove his kids to school, and greeted them with gifts and hugs and kisses when he returned from work and them from school. And Mrs. Frazier was probably preparing a nice, home-cooked meal. The four of them most likely sat around the table at night for dinner, exchanging stories from the day's events. That had to be a normal family. At that moment, Ricky wished more then anything that he could be a Frazier. Mr. Frazier's son looked up at Ricky's window and, upon seeing him watching them, waved at him. Ricky just turned away, laying back down on his bed.

Thoughts about what tomorrow would hold flew into Ricky's mind. The events from the night had made Ricky look forward to the visit even more. Grace was nice, and her father seemed the same. He could picture Grace's mother simply as an older version of Grace, sharing her daughter's petite, angelic features and kind personality. If that was the case, tomorrow night would be perfection for Ricky. He'd make sure to be home late, maybe even after 9:00, just to be positive that his dad wouldn't be waiting for him.

The clock now read 10:05, and Ricky found himself allowing his eyes to surrender to sleep. Thoughts of Grace remained in his mind, along with the hopes of the day to come.

-0-0-0-

_Dear Diary,_

_Tomorrow night will be absolutely great! I'm positive that Ricky's parents will let him come, I mean there's no reason for them not to. I'm so excited to get to know Ricky. He's so quiet and reserved at school, and I'm hoping that maybe I'll see part of his real personality at my own house. Tom won't be there, but that isn't neccisarily a bad thing. I don't want him embarrasing me. Oh, that sounds mean. It's true, though. You know Tom and how he can be. I know that he can't help it, but still... Besides, he's always revealing any of the secrets I tell him. I need to learn to keep my mouth shut around him._

_Dad asked me a few questions about Ricky today when he got home from work. All of the questions were strange. He kept asking me about Ricky's parents or his home life and all that. I kept telling him that I didn't know, I mean we haven't lived here that long at all. I don't know Ricky all that well yet. Dad's always been nosy about guys; even when I was in kindergarten he'd ask me if I had any guy friends, then ask me to tell him anything and everything about them. He seemed especially interested in Ricky though, and I really want to know why. Maybe I'll figure that out tomorrow. _

_Wow, it's 10:00 now. I need some sleep if I'm going to have my friend over for dinner tomorrow! Be prepared for pages and pages about it. _

_~ Grace Bowman_


	4. Ricky, Are You Doing Okay?

**Thanks for the reviews! This is one of my favorite chapters. I was actually inspired by the song Christy, Are You Doing Okay by The Offspring. Next chapter will be in Ricky's point of view, and it'll explain some stuff that happens in this chapter.**

Ricky, Are You Doing Okay?  
_Grace_

"Beep! Beep!"

That beeping was not the beeping of the alarm clock. Instead it was the voice of Grace's older brother, Tom. Tom was fourteen, with shaggy brown hair that reached the tips of his ears. Grace glared into her brother's chocolate brown eyes, throwing her pale pink pillow at his face. Tom let out a cry and reeled backwards, covering his face with his hands. Grace laughed, knowing that Tom was only pretending to be hurt. She looked over at the alarm clock on her desk, and her eyes widened at the time. It was only 5:45! Grace glared at Tom, really feeling angry now.

"Tom! It's 5:45! Why did you wake me up?" Grace demanded, sitting up in bed and shoving her pink comforter off her.

"You needed... to get ready... for your d-date with R-Ricky." Grace let out an angry squeal, throwing her other, identical pink pillow at her brother as he retreated out of her room.

Grace's eyebrows scrunched together as she called after him "It's not a date!" _Well, I wish it was..._

Looking at the vanity mirror on her desk, Grace realized with a sudden stab of fear that she _did _need to wake up this early. Her hair stuck out wildly in all directions, making her look like something out of a horror movie. Since Ricky would be getting a ride home with Grace and her mom, Grace wouldn't have time after school to put on any new make-up or change her clothes. She needed to look perfect, and needed to remain looking perfect for the entire day.

Quickly Grace got out of bed and snatched up her bright red brush. She smoothed her sleek blonde hair with just a few strokes of the brush before turning to her closet. Pulling open the doors, she was greeted by an assortment of bright, welcoming colors. And a whole bunch of decisions. Dozens of questions swarmed through her mind. Which would she not want to wear for the next couple of weeks? Which wouldn't show if it got dirty? Which would Ricky like?

Eventually she decided an a bright orange blouse, blue jeans and a matching orange belt. It was casual, yet perfect for the sudden warm weather they were faced with. After choosing her outfit, she brought it into the bathroom, where she'd finish getting ready for the day. It'd obviously take a couple hours, with the way her hair was still even after she smoothed it out.

-0-0-0-

"That had to be the most boring class, _ever."_Grace and Ricky walked to lunch side-by-side, Grace carrying her pink lunch box and Ricky with his wallet in hand. Ricky nodded, a twinge of a smile on his lips. Grace felt her heart race at the sight of that. She loved Ricky's half-smiles, smiles, grins, all of it. They always made her get butterflies, tickling at her stomach and threatening to make her lose her breakfast.

"Yeah, well, Mr. Clarkson is a boring teacher," Ricky commented dryly. "At least we have lunch to look forward to afterward."

"Yeah," Grace replied with a soft laugh. "So, what are you buying today?"

Ricky shrugged. "Burger, fries, same old."

The two continued walking in silence, but that ended as soon as they reached the cafeteria. Conversation buzzed around them at full-force, laughter and shouts echoing across the room. Ricky walked off to the lunch line while Grace turned and walked toward one of the booths. The booths seated four, but recently it had only been Grace and Ricky sitting there. Grace was new and didn't have many friends at all, and Ricky was... well, Ricky.

Grace had heard the whispers. People laughed at Ricky behind his back, calling him weak and useless for not talking to anyone. "They don't know anything about him..." Grace whispered angrily to herself. _But then again, do I even know anything about him?_

Grace pondered on this thought as she took a bite of her peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich. She was careful to make sure no jelly dripped down onto her blouse. So far, she'd gone to the bathroom after each of their classes they'd been in already. If there was a strand of hair out of place, Grace fixed it in a panic and hoped that Ricky hadn't noticed it before. Wow, she was obsessed. Grace sighed, staring down at her sandwich. What was it about Ricky that made her act so... different? She never acted like this about a guy before.

A tray smacked against the table, jolting Grace from her thoughts. She looked up, seeing Ricky sitting down across from her. Grace smiled, he smiled back, not as half-hearted as usual, actually. The two sat in silence for a moment, shyness overcoming Grace and in her mind surely Ricky too. It was eventually Ricky who broke the silence.

"I just want to thank you," he said quietly, not meeting her eyes. "For inviting me over tonight. You have no idea how much I appreciate it."

"You don't need to thank me," Grace replied with a soft smile. "It's my pleasure, and my mom's too. She loves when we have company over, that just makes more for her to cook. My dad's happy about it too, and-"

Grace stopped at the sound of a scream across the cafeteria. Eyes wide, she leaned to the right to see past Ricky, but the only thing she saw was a young girl named Adrian, shouting furiously at another boy named Jack about something. Grace rolled her eyes and sat back, but Ricky had not yet turned around. That was when she saw it.

A huge bump was situated near the top of the back of Ricky's head. It looked as if it had a scab on it, and dried, crusted blood stuck to some of the boy's hairs. Grace squinted, trying to get a better look, when Ricky all of a sudden whirled around. Grace shot back in her seat, noticing an angry look beginning to form in Ricky's eyes. He glared at her, making Grace suddenly feel horrible. Her eyes fell back to her sandwich.

"Why were you staring at me?" Ricky demanded.

Grace replied, "There... there's a big bump on your head, it looks bad, Ricky. Maybe my dad can-"

"It's fine," Ricky said, clenching and unclenching his fists. "I fell last night, okay? I fell down the stairs and hit my head on the corner. My parents were asleep, so I took care of it myself."

Something about the puzzle didn't really fit. "Wouldn't everything hurt if you fell down the stairs."

Ricky laughed bitterly, jabbing a french fry into the ketchup. "Ha, well, a lot of stuff _does _hurt."

The two didn't speak for the rest of the lunch period. Even throughout the rest of the day, Ricky purposely avoided Grace. All of this was like a slap in the face to her. What had she done wrong? She had just been concerned for Ricky, for her friend. Why was he so mad at her? Grace kept her head bowed, and all throughout the rest of her classes she found herself looking across the room at Ricky. Ricky would already be watching her, and as soon as their eyes met he'd look away. Grace found herself feeling horrible for the rest of the day, until the moment she and Ricky were waiting for her mom to pick them up.

It was then that Ricky finally spoke to her. "Grace, I'm sorry for snapping at you."

He wasn't looking at her when he said this. Grace's eyes fell to her shoes, and she didn't say anything. Ricky placed a hand on her shoulder, clearly trying to get her attention. Grace smiled at the touch, at the feeling of butterflies running wild in her stomach. Finally she looked up at him, meeting his dark brown eyes. His gaze was sincere and warm, and Grace found the urge to snuggled against him, to feel his arms wrap around her.

But Ricky lifted his hand from her shoulder. Grace bit her lip so the disappointment wouldn't show. The van was pulling to the curb, and Grace and Ricky walked toward it quickly. As she hopped into the front seat, the feeling that something was wrong wouldn't shake from Grace. Something was wrong, or something was going to go wrong.

-0-0-0-

"So, how long have you lived here, Ricky?"

"My whole life, sir."

"Do you plan on getting a job anytime soon?"

"When I'm older and can get a learner's permit. I'm only eleven, sir."

"That was my next question. Anyways, how many girlfriends have you had, son?"

"Dad!"

Grace found her face turning as red as the Kool-aid in her glass. That was how the whole dinner had gone. Her father had shot question after question at Ricky. Grace ducked her head, moving the corn around on her plate to distract herself. She looked up at Ricky, mouthing to word "Sorry," to him. Ricky smiled, in fact it looked as if he were enjoying the whole thing. Grace was surprised. How could anyone enjoy her father's innterogation?

"Answer the question please, Ricky," Grace's father said calmly. He had his hands folded, elbows propped on the table. Grace's mother quickly scolded him for that, and her father sat up straight in his seat.

Ricky chuckled at the question. "Sir, I'm only eleven. I don't seriously date or have girlfriends."

Grace's father nodded, seeming to be pleased by the answer. Grace, feeling as if the question and answer session was over, found the courage to lift her head. It was a good thing that Tom was at the neighbor's house tonight, or else it would've been much, much worse. Just thinking of all the things her brother would've said made Grace lose her appetite.

"One more question."

"Dad!" Grace glared at him from her seat. "Ricky didn't come here to be on your little game show."

"You're right, he came here to see you." Her father leaned back in his seat. "I'm done, I'm done. Just having a little fun. It's nice to have new people over for dinner. I apologize if I seemed rude to you, Ricky."

Ricky didn't say anything. Instead he touched the back of his neck, then looked at his finger. His eyes widened slightly and, much to Grace's confusion, he turned to Grace's father and snapped, "Well, you did seem very rude to me, sir. I didn't expect to be interrogated like some criminal."

Ricky stood up. "Excuse me."

As Ricky stormed out of the room, Grace turned to glare at her father. He looked just as confused as she felt.

"See what you did!" Grace accused, standing up and beginning to follow Ricky. "You're always doing this, can't you just... just..." She shook her head. No matter how angry she was at her father, she had to go see what happened with Ricky. She strode out of the room and into the hall, where she saw Ricky grabbing a piece of tissue out of the box on a table.

"I am so, so sorry, Ricky," Grace said as she came over to him. "I told him not to do this. I'm really sorry if he insulted you."

Grace, about to say more, stopped suddenly. A trickle of blood was running down Ricky's neck, some already dripping to the carpet. It stained the handsome dark blue t-shirt he'd been wearing, and she could see the sheen of the blood in his hair. Had the wound she'd seen at lunch opened? That had to have been it. Grace grabbed Ricky's shoulder, trying to spin him around to face her. Ricky was strong, though, and he stood rooted in place. He didn't turn to face her.

"Ricky, what's wrong? You're bleeding." Ricky still remained silent. Grace's eyes stared at the back of his head, at the soft flow of blood coming from his head. Finally, Ricky turned around. Grace could see the pain in his eyes, and she couldn't help it. She pulled him into a hug. Ricky grew stiff and still at the touch, but he didn't pull away. The two stood there in a picture that would look awkward to a passing bystander. They'd see a little blonde-haired girl, hugging a bleeding, dark-haired boy that looked more scared then a deer in the headlights.

Finally, Grace released her embrace. Ricky was looking at the small blood stains on the carpet. Grace was looking at him. She knew, deep down in her heart, she knew that Ricky had lied to her earlier. He hadn't fallen down the stairs. There was something else.

"Grace," Ricky said, breaking up the silence. "I... could you ask your dad to drive me home? I have some stuff to finish."

Grace nodded mutely, and went to deliver the message to her father. Grace's dad walked Ricky out of the house, not saying anything about the blood on the carpet or the tears in Grace's eyes. Grace watched the front door, blinking the tears away. Why was she crying? Did seeing Ricky hurt so badly have that effect on her? What had happened, why had they both become so emotional over a little blood?

_It goes deeper then that,_ Grace decided. _I need to find out what, though. I need to get Ricky to talk to me about what _really _happened._

Those were the thoughts going through her mind when her mother pulled her into a gentle hug.


End file.
